


To have and to hold

by thekuroiookami



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Romance, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 11:10:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10763061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekuroiookami/pseuds/thekuroiookami
Summary: A collection of drabbles about our favourite basketball dorks and their attempts to cheer someone up.Written in response to a Tumblr ask for comfort scenarios with an emotionless s/o who is found crying silently.Featuring Kuroko, Kise, Akashi, Kiyoshi, Mayuzumi and Takao.





	1. Kuroko - Dearly beloved

People often wondered if Kuroko and you were really dating. There was nothing to signify it, other than the both of you just nodding at whoever was asking. You never seemed particularly more happy to see Kuroko than you would a weather forecast. No one had ever seen you holding hands, much less doing anything romantic. To all intents and purposes, the outside world viewed you as friendly strangers.

What they forgot was that Kuroko had spent a lifetime observing people. He could see the tiny details others couldn’t. How your eyes stayed on him when he entered the room. The way you drummed your fingers on the tabletop when you were happy, following an invisible melody. How you moved just a little closer when he was walking by your side.

So when he got back home one day, he could tell right away that something was wrong. He could see it in the subtle changes in your stance, the rigid set of your shoulders. He called out to you, concerned.

“____-san, I’m back. Is everything alright?”

He almost dropped the books he was carrying when you turned to face him. It was the passionless visage of someone who was used to carrying the weight of their feelings deep within them. Were it not for the moisture trickling down your cheeks, there would be nothing to give away the extent of your grief. But he knew that was what made it all the more significant.

You looked up hopelessly at him as he approached. He waited in reassuring silence, giving you the strength to speak. It came out as a whisper.

“Kuroko-kun, he’s gone. Yuki-kun is- is dead.”

He blinked for a moment, then recognition dawned. You were talking about your lovable family pet, an energetic husky. His brows furrowed, sure he’d misunderstood. “He wasn’t ill, was he?”

You shook your head in the negative. “He was run over by a car. It was an accident, but…I don’t understand. Why Yuki-kun? He was- he was just a puppy. He didn’t do anything wrong.” Your nails bit into your palms, but the sting didn’t lessen the pain any.

Kuroko reached out and carefully unfolded your fingers, one by one. “You’re covered in mirin, ___-san. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You looked down at your soaked clothes, noticing for the first time the rice wine you had spilled when you received the phone call. You hardly noticed as Kuroko led you into the bathroom, filling the tub with water and scented bubbles. In a haze of sadness, you numbly complied as he coaxed you out of your clothes and into the tub.  

It wasn’t until his hands began lathering shampoo into your hair that your muscles began to relax. Kuroko’s touch was gentle but firm, brushing sensation across your scalp. You shut your eyes, feeling a stray tear drip to your chin.

“Kuroko-kun? Do you think Yuki-kun was in a lot of pain?”

He paused, hands stilling in your tangled locks. The silence went on for so long that you wondered if he had heard you at all. Then:

“I can’t say for sure. But I’m certain of one thing. Yuki-kun was happy, until the last moment. He had only happy memories of the world he knew, and the people who loved him. He’d want you to know that, I think.”      

You stayed motionless as he proceeded to rinse out your hair, turning his words over in your mind. If there was one thing you knew about him, it was the fact that he would never lie to you. Kuroko always spoke after considering his words. A weight seemed to lift off your shoulders as he washed away all the foam. When Kuroko was midway through ruffling your hair with a towel, you clasped his wrist.

“Thank you. I think I needed that.”

He stopped drying to bring his face closer to yours. You blinked into placid blue irises as his hands framed your face with the towel.

“It’s harder for the people who’re left behind. I know it’s not quite the same, but I was left behind once. You want to hold on to what you have, but everything is just pulled from your grasp. What I’m trying to say, ____-san, is that only time and new experiences will ease the hurt. And that I’ll be there for you as long as it takes.”

You stared at him, overwhelmed by a mix of gratitude, sorrow, confused anger, under all of which was an insistent chant in your veins – that this person was the one, the one who was woven into the fabric of your very being. You rested a palm on his cool cheek.

“I love you, Tetsuya. I don’t say it enough, but I really do.”

For the first time that evening, he smiled. “I know.”


	2. Kise - From this day forward

It was the ideal stay-at-home date. There was a comfortable couch, made even more so by the judicious application of pillows and a fluffy throw. An appropriately sentimental film was playing on the TV. From the way you had been languidly draped against him, Kise had high hopes for the evening taking a more sensual turn. He strolled back into the living room with a refilled bowl of popcorn and his customary cheer.

You didn’t seem to notice his return so he took the opportunity to induce a smile – a rare commodity given your taciturn nature, but all the more precious for it -  and clapped his hands over your eyes.

“Guess who, ___-cchi!”

But the expected reaction never came. Instead, Kise was the one left shocked as you jolted and his fingertips encountered a dampness. He lifted his hands and stared at the drops sparkling on his skin.

“___-cchi? Are you…crying?”

Any semblance of calm he might have had was scattered when you ducked your head instead of replying. Anxiety had him vaulting over the back of the sofa to crouch in front of you. You reluctantly looked up as he tipped up your chin. Amber tipped eyes widened as he confirmed his suspicions.

“You  **are**  crying! Oh my god, what happened? Did someone get hurt? Is your mother okay? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

You frowned, the tight feeling in your chest temporarily abated by the barrage of questions. “How did you even- It’s nothing that serious. Calm down.”

“Don’t hold back from me,” he chided. “You never cry.  _Never_. It’s even worse because you’re sitting there, looking as calm as usual, but you’re crying! ___-cchi, I can’t handle the suspense. Please, just tell me what made you sad.”

You wondered if laughing at his reaction would push him off the proverbial cliff. You decided not to test your luck. “It’s nothing, Ryouta. Don’t worry about it. Let’s just pretend it ever happened, okay?”

He was nothing if not persistent. Kise’s voice had moved into dangerously calm territory as he repeated himself. “___-cchi, I want to know. Tell me.”

You sighed at the command in his tone and clasped your hands together. “It was the movie, if you want to know.” You glanced at him. He was still regarding you intently, so you continued.

“It’s just so heartbreaking. They’re such good people. I don’t understand why they can’t stay together. It’s so unfair.” It was silly, you knew, but somehow the thought of someone being denied happiness, even a fictional person, made your heart hurt. You could feel the tears threatening to spill again.

Kise’s eyes slid to the screen, shaded with thought. “I don’t have an answer to that, ___-cchi. Life just is unfair sometimes.”

You pursed your lips, worried at the dark cloud hanging over his demeanour. It abruptly vanished when he blinked and returned to his usual happy grin. His thumb came up to wipe away a droplet clinging to your lashes.

“What I do know is that I won’t let anyone come between us. I’m never letting go of you, no matter what. Have faith in me, ____-cchi.”

You nodded once. “I do. But…I could really use a hug.”

He spread his arms wide, eyes warmed to a liquid gold. “Your wish is my command, princess.”

You shuffled into his waiting embrace, instantly feeling your world right from the contact. Kise hummed as he tucked the blanket securely around you, cocooning you in affectionate warmth. Your eyes drifted shut, lulled by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Ryouta?”

“Hmm?” He dropped a kiss on your forehead in assurance.

“You don’t think I’m foolish for crying over a movie, do you? I mean, it’s understandable-“

His reply was instant. “Never. Your honest feelings are what make you you, ___-cchi. And I could never dislike you. Would you hate me for the same thing?”

It was a rhetorical question, but your response was measured. “Well, there was that one time…”

“___-cchi, how mean! And after everything I just said, too!”

You patted his arm consolingly. “I was just kidding.”

He gave you a long look and then you suddenly found yourself pinned to the sofa. Half-lidded, glittering eyes swept your surprised face. “Prepare yourself, ___-cchi. I don’t let go of grudges easily…”


	3. Akashi - I thee worship

Smiling politely, Akashi clinked his glass with another and silently wished this party would be over soon. He glanced across the room to where you were surrounded by a cluster of women, nodding at something someone said. As if by instinct, you looked up at him, tilting your head in question. He smiled slightly and shook his head, returning to his conversation. It seemed like everything was alright, which is why it took him a while to notice you were missing.

After the soiree, he returned to your shared bedroom to find you sitting at the dressing table, motionless. You seemed to be staring intently at something, head bowed.

“___? Would you like to take a bath first?” He drew closer, loosening his tie, sleeves folded up.

You didn’t respond. His eyes narrowed as he saw that your hand was clenched around a hairbrush, knuckles white. He tried again.

“____, my love. Look at me.” He inhaled in shock when your chin lifted, eyes meeting his in the mirror.

Your face was as still as ever – you had never been one for extravagant, or really, any displays of emotion – but your eyes were written with heartbreak. Akashi felt a sharp throb in the region of his chest as he noticed a tear track down the curve of your cheek. His hand lifted to cup your face in a reflexive response.

“Sei. Am I really…am I really enough?” Your voice was quiet with despair.

His eyes widened. Almost on default, his mind began racing with the worst possible outcomes. “What?”

You took a deep, shuddering breath. “They said- they said I wasn’t good enough. That I’d never match up to you. And I know it doesn’t make sense, but I can’t help thinking it’s true. It’s not like I’m pretty or talented or all that smart. Not like them, anyway.” You dropped your gaze to the brush, mouth tipped down a fraction.

And that’s how Akashi knew how deeply it had hurt you. Silently he swore to find out just who had the audacity to try and cause you distress. In the meantime, you were here and you needed him. He wouldn’t fail you.

“It’s true.” Your eyes snapped to his in surprise as he knelt to take your hand. “You’re not pretty or talented or smart.” You shrank back, hurt beyond comprehension.

“No,” he continued, “you are clever. Clever enough to keep a person who can see the future guessing. And more wise than I’ll ever be, because you know me better than I do. You’re not talented because you don’t need it. Your gift is the art of kindness, something they will never have.”

Your tears were flowing without check now, blurring your view of crimson hair and star-bright eyes. He kept speaking, rubbing soothing circles over your wrist.

“And you will never be pretty. You are breath-takingly, unreservedly beautiful. So much that I have to remind myself to look away or risk drowning. So,” he concluded, touching his lips to your fingertips, “they were correct. We will never be a match because you are far more than a splintered soul like mine deserves.”

You reached a trembling hand to his hair. “Sei, that’s not- you aren’t broken. At all.”

He smiled wryly. “If that’s true, it’s because you made it so. You see, neither of us needs to be perfect. Because we have each other. Because we complete each other. So don’t doubt yourself, when you do, you doubt me.”

You couldn’t help a small smile. “And we know you’re absolute.”

“Exactly. Now, shall I demonstrate that with my actions?”


	4. Kiyoshi - In good times and in bad

Humming a catchy jingle he’d seen on TV the other day, Kiyoshi closed the front door behind him. After cheerfully announcing his arrival so you wouldn’t be startled, he started putting away the groceries in the fridge. He pondered the merits of making nabe for dinner, absently weighing a leek. A sudden crash had him looking up in bewilderment.

He padded into the bedroom, eyes crinkled with worry. “What happened, ___?”

You looked up blankly at him, barely aware of the tears streaking your face. He took in the sight of a shattered vase, your melancholy stillness and…was that blood on your fingers? The fear hit him with all the gentleness of a speeding truck, had him jogging over to your frozen form. Careful not to disturb the shards of glass glinting on the floor, he cradled your injured hand, examining the wounds.

His breath ruffled your hair as he spoke. “Thank goodness, it’s not very deep. Did you trip over something, ___? You’re normally not very clumsy.”

Somehow his observation made you feel even more miserable. A fresh wave of tears threatened to engulf the last dregs of your composure. Your eyes squeezed shut, the heel of one hand pressed to your forehead. It was this last hint of frustration that alerted Kiyoshi to the depth of your distress.

“Ah, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t think before speaking. Here, let’s take a look at those cuts on your hand.” You breathed in sharply when he lifted you off the floor, your knees hooked over a sturdy arm.

“Teppei, your knee-“

He cut you off a smile. “It’s only till the couch. And you don’t weigh anything anyway.”

Kiyoshi set you down on the sofa with heartrending care and set about to disinfecting the wounds. You flinched a little when he swabbed at a cut, but otherwise made no complaint. He gave a nod of satisfaction when he was finished.

“Done. Just be careful for a couple of days when you’re washing things. Now, do you want to tell me why you’re in my jumper?”

You hugged the well-worn fabric to yourself, reluctant to answer, or speak at all. He tilted his head in patient inquiry, giving you the time you needed. Finally, you sighed.

“It’s that time of the month and I’m just feeling down. It’s nothing.”

Kiyoshi blinked. Whatever he’d been expecting to hear, that wasn’t it. He put a soothing hand on your shoulder. “How can I help?”

It wasn’t as if he had a reference to go on. He mournfully reflected that having a female sibling would have helped. Clearly, this was more difficult than he knew, if you were in tears. You never cried.

You rubbed your eyes wearily, oblivious to his train of thought. “It’ll pass. I’m just so tired right now. Everything is trying to stab me – my back especially – and I can’t seem to do anything right. I thought having some flowers in a vase would help, but look what happened. I wish I could just go to sleep for three days and not have to deal with this.”

His lips curved downward with sympathy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. There is one thing I can do for you, though. Wait here.” You watched him stride off in fatigued confusion, and slumped down with a blanket over you.

He returned with a bowl of fragrant liquid and a large towel. “Sit up for a moment, ___.”

You complied, though you weren’t sure where this was heading. He spread the towel over the couch and indicated that you should recline on it. “Lie down on your stomach please.”

“Teppei, what’s in the bowl?” It smelled like summer and flowering fields.

He gently tugged on your waist, guiding you to the desired position. “Lavender oil. My grandmother used this for my knee sometimes.”

You were too drained of energy to argue, so you did as he asked. His hands sliding up under the jumper made your shoulder-blades hunch in response. He stroked an apologetic circle over your neck. “Just close your eyes and relax, okay?”

Kiyoshi’s hands trailed pure bliss over your skin as he began to massage the oil into your back. Tendrils of heat spread from the warm oil into your spine, unwinding the tense muscles in slow increments. You exhaled in relief as his calloused fingers pressed down on a sore spot, coaxing the ache out of your cells. The steady tempo of his palms, combined with his distant humming, inevitably cloaked you with drowsiness.

You lifted your head slightly when he chuckled. “You’re so delicate, ___-chan. My hand can easily span your waist.” You felt him test the width of your torso, fingers spreading in measurement.

“That’s because you’re absurdly huge, like a bear,” you mumbled sleepily. “I’m an average size, thanks.”

His laugh was the deep tenor of a bronze bell. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You flushed a little, and went back to soaking in the scent of lavender. Very soon, you felt yourself fade into slumber again. Kiyoshi touched an oil-slick finger to your cheek and smiled softly.

“Everyone has their good days and bad days, ____. I’m glad I get to be there for all of yours.”


	5. Mayuzumi - For better, for worse

As a person who didn’t care to talk much, Mayuzumi knew there were different kinds of silences. Angry ones where restraint barely held down furious words. Companionable ones where you basked in the comfort of familiarity. Awkward ones where self-consciousness won out over the yearning for friendship. And then there was the soundless space that comes with shock, as the body struggles to catch up with what the mind can’t quite bring itself to process.

Such a silence ensued when Mayuzumi found you on the roof, your normally animated eyes glazed over with a dark despair. On the outside you looked as implacable as ever, seemingly as calm as he was disinterested. But the tears that streamed down your face spoke for themselves, and they told a story of complete heartbreak.

He closed the distance between you almost instinctively. His fathomless gaze settled on your bandaged ankle. “Is it…hopeless?”

Something in you seemed to curl up and die at the question. “The doctor said I was lucky to make it this far. But I’ll never dance again. And if I can’t dance…then there’s no point. I don’t know who I am without it.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with unrealized potential. Eventually Mayuzumi broke the stillness. “I’m sorry.” He was, though he knew it was useless. But there was no choice to be made here; your pain was his too.

Your answer was a bitter laugh. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault I’m only half a person now.”

His mouth curled down unhappily. “That’s not true. It was part of you, but not all of you. I know it feels like everything that you’ve worked for has been erased, but that will change. Trust me.”

You looked away, unable to bear this newfound reality. “But what do I if it’s not dancing? That’s all I’m good at.”

He shrugged. “Sing. Paint. Read. Learn something new. Or you can change the shape of the world to suit you. Teach someone else to dance.”

You took in a shuddering breath and caught his sleeve. He merely watched, eyes softened to something like understanding. Your voice was barely a whisper, but he heard it all the same.

“Will you stay with me?”

He heard all the things you left unsaid. Whether he would still love you when you couldn’t love yourself. Whether he would brace you for the darker days. Whether it was possible that this meant a change in pieces of the puzzle, rather than an incomplete end.

“Of course,” he replied. “Always.”

When his lips came down over yours, it felt like an inevitable piece of a symphony. You let go of your sadness, your crushed dreams, a piece of your soul, as he drew them all out with the soft brush of his mouth. He seemed to drink in your sorrow and make it his own, tongue flicking over your last tears. Your breathlessness became the symptom of a sweeter sickness when he finally lifted his head.  

Your irises flickered to his, conveying the beauty you found in this bond, where your mouth could not. Mayuzumi smiled ever so slightly as you breathed his name. “Chihiro.”

Familiar as he was with silences, he knew what words the gaps held. “I love you too.”


	6. Takao - To love and to cherish

he locker room was almost empty when Takao finished showering after practice. Towel slung low around his lean hips, he rummaged around in his backpack, frowning when he couldn’t find his cellphone.

“I could swear the sound came from around here somewhere-“

He jumped as the doors to the locker room exploded open. Takao stiffened with surprise when you walked in, head bent and fists clenched. The two other occupants in the area yelled and scrambled for cover. He watched you with an expression of bemused bafflement.

“____-chan, what are you-“

“Takao-kun.” That was all you said before wrapping your arms around him, hugging him tight enough to break a rib. He flailed and put an arm around your waist. You buried your nose into his bare chest. He yelped at the contact.

“Yargh! That tickles! ___-chan, let go for a second, I’m still wet. You’ll ruin your dress!”

You stubbornly shook your head and pressed even closer. Takao stared at you helplessly for a moment longer before sighing in fond exasperation. He managed to prise you off. Belatedly he realized that not all the water on his skin was from the shower.

His heart lurched at your deadened gaze. “Whoa! You’re crying? What’s wrong? Who do I need to kill?”

Only the waver in your voice gave away the fact that your composure was barely holding up. “Takao-kun, I don’t know what to do. They’re saying that the paper won’t count- and after all the work I put into it, the professor accused me of stealing it as well- I’d never do that- oh god, it’s such a disaster.”

He sorted through the tangle of words, patting your head as he talked. “So in a nutshell: the lecturer with a grudge has failed your term paper and with it the entire class. But they didn’t just stop there, they also accused you of plagiarism?”

Your grip on his bicep tightened. “He said I hadn’t referenced a book, but I had, it was just an earlier edition. He also said something about copying the structure of an essay, but that’s not even possible.”

He sighed. You bit your lip as a tear crept down your cheek. Takao brushed it away and murmured softly.

“Hey. This is what we’re gonna do. Tomorrow, you’re going to the appeals office and telling them about this. They’ll contact your department and get the paper rechecked. It will sort itself out. So don’t worry, ‘kay?”

His reasoned instructions brought you a measure of calm. You wiped your eyes with your sleeve. “Alright. Sorry for just jumping on you like that.”

He laughed good-naturedly and winked at you. “No problem, ___-chan. I’m here to be jumped anytime.”

You rolled your eyes as he walked away to get dressed. You sat on the bench, working out your jumbled feelings and finding it easier to breathe after Takao’s reassurance. You looked up when he returned and crouched with his back to you.

“Climb on. I’m treating you to a piggy-back ride today, since you were upset.” His smile was blinding in its intensity.

Your face turned red as your realized what he proposing. “N-no way. It’s too embarrassing, and I’m too heavy.”

He tutted. “Tsk, tsk, ye of little faith. After all these years of towing Shin-chan around, you think I can’t carry a girl for a few minutes? Maybe I should princess-carry you instead-“

That alternative was even more mortifying, so you hugged his back, willing him to stop talking. He chuckled and shifted to lock his arms around your legs, standing up in a fluid movement. You hid your face in his shoulder, telling yourself that this didn’t feel as comforting as you thought it did.

You were halfway home when Takao spoke again. “Ne, ___-chan. We all know how hard you work. Your teachers too. Everything will be fine, I know it.”

You leaned forward a little to nuzzle his cheek. “Thanks, Takao-kun.”

He grinned, devilish with intention. “How about you return the favour? Starting with a kiss…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was fun to write, if a bit draining. Personally I'm quite proud of Kiyoshi's drabble. Let me know which ones you liked best ^___^


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